


right down the line it’s been you and me

by wanderlustlights



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, Baker!Kurt Hummel, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Husbands, In Ten Years, Lawyer!David Karofsky, M/M, Married Life, Married Sex, POV Kurt Hummel, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:22:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28523139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlustlights/pseuds/wanderlustlights
Summary: Kurt and Dave's lives intertwined throughout the years, every February.
Relationships: Kurt Hummel/David Karofsky
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32
Collections: Secret Santa 2020 - Dave Karofsky Discord





	right down the line it’s been you and me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nubianamy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/gifts).



> So I've had this fic in mind for literal _years_ and then finally started writing it this past year and have just now finished it, _finally_. That being said, I hope this lives up to the hype for the people I've talked about it to in the past and for the ones I haven't that you like it nonetheless and that you actually find it at the very least somewhat enjoyable. (I hope, haha.) Also, I might have started writing this months ago but it's finally finished now thanks to the Dave Discord and our Secret Santa exchange. So I hope you love this, Amy! (Used the "future fic" and "improbable jobs" prompts given.) 
> 
> Also: rating given mostly for one particular section of the fic containing smut. The rest of the fic is fairly tame and full of fluff, though. :)
> 
> Title from Faithfully by Journey.

_2012_ — 

It’s nice, actually, helping Dave dream of a better future for himself. Kurt’s not entirely sure what Dave is picturing, if it coincides at all with what is going on in his own head, but at least for him he likes what he sees. And he’s glad that Dave is letting him in and trusting him like this, trusting Kurt and handing over the reins to guide him toward dreaming of a better future and aspirations for himself. 

If he’s being honest with himself, though, he’s almost a little jealous. His own perfect future had consisted of him and his husband and their son or daughter taking the day together and going somewhere in the city as a family, merely enjoying being together. For the longest time he’s thought he would end up with Blaine, that they would stay madly in love forever and have some big, extravagant wedding full of lavish decor and tearful vows exchanged under an ivy covered altar. And now he’s not so sure that’s the case any more. Blaine’s been casually pulling away from him for so long now that he can’t put any faith in them ending up together, no matter how he hopes they will. Still, he can dream. 

“You lean over to your partner and you say—”

“I’m so happy right now.”

Kurt opens his eyes slowly, focusing on Dave and the blinding smile that is adorning his face. He’s not sure what’s happened, exactly, to put that smile there but whatever it is, he’s glad. It’s infectious, really, the way that it lights up Dave’s face and makes him smile in turn. Dave deserves to be happy, though, he thinks. He _wants_ Dave to be happy. 

When he holds Dave’s hand it’s a little tighter than he ever could have imagined, a lifeline. 

—

 _2013_ — _in one year_

“So,” Rachel starts, the word slow and drawn out as she takes a seat on the couch next to him. “Have you talked to Blaine at all, then?”

Kurt glances over at her before focusing his attention back on the show on the TV in front of them. No, he hasn’t talked to Blaine, not since Mr. Schue’s almost wedding over a week ago. Frankly, he sort of wants to just forget about it. It had been nice in the moment, reconnecting with Blaine and having a one off with him, but in the end it had only felt wrong. As though all it did was confirm his doubts. Seeing him again had brought up a certain sense of nostalgia, and he’d only succumbed to the residual feelings and wound up in bed with Blaine by the end of the night. But being with him again only made him think of the infidelity and the fact that he hadn’t been good enough for Blaine to stand by faithfully. It seems like no matter what happens, when it comes to Blaine, he only ends up getting hurt and repeatedly torn up inside. And despite how much he loves Blaine, and probably always will in a way, he knows that that’s not what he wants for himself, that it’s not what he deserves in life. 

Kurt takes a deep breath, shaking his head once. “No,” he says finally, his words quiet and resigned. “I think… I think we might be done, for good this time.”

Rachel doesn’t say anything for a long moment, the silence between them dragging on, only cut by the low sounds coming from the television. When he looks over at her expectantly, thinking she’s going to convince him to take Blaine back so that he can make the sharp pain stinging in his chest finally go away, she has her head tilted slightly as though studying him and expecting him to break down at any moment. “Are you okay with that?”

He gives her a tight smile, tears stinging his eyes but he refuses to let them fall, refuses to be anything but strong in that moment. “I think so, yeah,” he says. “I can’t keep waiting to feel better about what happened and I think I’m just… I don’t know. Over it, maybe. Wanting to move on with my life.”

Rachel leans over, resting her head on his shoulder and snaking an arm around his back to pull him into her by the waist. He has to take another deep, shaky breath so as not to break down completely in that moment, simultaneously mourning the thought of him and Blaine never getting back together and comforted by the close contact she’s providing him. 

If there’s one thing he knows for sure right then it’s that he’s glad he has enough close friends who can help get him through the darkest moments. 

—

 _2014_ — _in two years_

He’s not sure, exactly, what the turning point was when he decided to change course and move in a different direction entirely with his future but he’s somehow never been more happy with a decision in his life. 

He can vaguely recall some moment last June when, in the sweltering heat of a New York summer in an apartment with no air conditioning, it had come to him that he wasn’t happy at NYADA like he’d hoped he would be. While it had been nice being surrounded by other students with overwhelming ambition to _be somebody_ and who were all chasing fame, it had never really felt right. He wasn’t entirely happy where he was, and that realization was more terrifying than anything had been in a long time. 

Some ridiculous career aptitude test, nights spent going over what he really wanted in his life — something stable, rewarding, where he could enrich the lives of people around him and where he would be comfortable and overwhelmingly _happy_ — making lists and drawing connections in his mind and suddenly he knew. Knew exactly where he wanted to be and what he wanted to do with his life, and this time if actually felt right. Like this is good and will give him that sense of satisfaction in his life that he so desperately craves. 

In hindsight, he’s really not sure why he’d never thought of it before. It seems obvious now that he might have considered it for a career before, but he’d been so laser focused all along on the performing arts that he forgot about another passion of his along the way. 

Tucked away in a vintage green metal box, stowed away under his bed and lined with discoloration — the slight rust adorning it gives it character, no matter what anyone has to say about it in an effort to harp on it — is his stash of photos. A whole myriad of photos from when he was growing up, with ones from his time in high school sprinkled in there. The ones of him and Blaine are in their own special, nondescript box in the lone closet of the loft, with everything else from their relationship he made himself put away after the breakup, including the outfit he was wearing the night Blaine told him everything that had happened with the other guy, unable to bring himself to wear it again. 

Among the photos, among his favorites of him and his dad or friends and holding a more special, reserved place in his heart, are his favorites. The ones that make him think that if the apartment were ever on fire and he had time to only grab a few things, it would be this box. This weirdly gorgeous, bought at a SoHo thrift store, pre loved box. 

One photo always makes him stop whenever he’s going through them is one that simultaneously makes him smile and pull on his heartstrings. While it’s his tenacity and passion that he got from his dad, his love for food and baking ultimately stems from his mother and the fact that she taught him at a young age. He can remember the day clearly when she pulled him into the kitchen with her, grabbing the step stool so he could reach the counter and help her measure the ingredients for whatever it was they were making. What it was doesn’t matter nearly as much as the memory of being there with her, six years old and helping her make something from scratch. He remembers how beautiful she was, standing there smiling with her eyes shining in the fluorescent light of the kitchen as she talked to him about how whatever he did when baking, even if it didn’t turn out the best or it wasn’t perfect, he should always make sure to put love into whatever he did. 

When he goes through that box, sitting cross legged on his bed with a fan blowing on full blast in an attempt to counteract the burning heat, it’s that photo that catches his eye and makes him pause. The sight of him and his mom laying on the linoleum floor with their backs against the cabinets, covered in spilled flour that had started out so small before turning into them throwing it at each other intentionally and knowing that that’s what Burt had come home to that day, his wife and son with giant smiles on their faces, the sheer joy he’d felt in that moment, is what makes him take out that sheet from his desk and add it to the list.

Because while he’d always imagined himself on some stage to overwhelming applause from an audience, he isn’t so sure that’s his dream anymore. And when he imagines his life in twenty years, he doesn’t see himself acting or singing, but rather using his talent of baking as the gift he’s always seen it as before he ever had much passion for anything else and putting it to good use. 

And honestly, the look on his culinary teacher’s face when he makes a crème brûlée to near perfection and causes a bit of jealousy from his new friends in the program makes it all more than worth it.

—

 _2015_ — _in three years_

Kurt hums, scrolling through his phone as he waits in line for his chance to order, trying not to lose the last bit of his patience. But as it is it’s already been an excruciatingly long week already and it’s only Tuesday; he’s getting dangerously close to desperation levels for a bit of a caffeine jolt to get him through the rest of the day. Kurt lets out a groan, rubbing the palm of his hand over the back of his neck in an attempt to rid it of the pain shooting through him. His only reprieve is the release of tension when he moves his head from side to side, eyes sliding closed with the calmness that washes over him at the motion, only to be interrupted by someone bumping into him harshly and causing his eyes to snap back open and look around the small cafe for the rude stranger. 

“What are you—”

“God, I’m so sorry, I— Kurt?”

Kurt stares, eyes landing on the keeper of the familiar voice and sure enough, it isn’t a stranger in the least. Instead, standing right in front of him in a random New York coffee shop is none other than David Karofsky, the man he hasn’t seen or even really heard from in years, and apparently looking better than ever. 

A surprised smile spreads slowly over his face, and he has to wonder briefly if he’s seeing things or if this is real life but ultimately decides that it must be the latter. Because in no memory he’s ever had of Dave has he ever looked this damn good, this much like a grown up, a man, and an overwhelmingly handsome one at that. 

“David,” he breathes, seemingly unable to stop from smiling and god he must look like a lunatic, the way he can’t stop staring. “You… what are you doing here?”

Dave gives him that same blinding smile that he flashed him that day in the hospital, and Kurt is met with a hope that that smile is just as genuine as it was back then. “Going to NYU. Just moved out here last fall, actually. I was at Ohio State before that for the first couple years but wanted to get out of there so, y’know. I’m here now.” 

Kurt feels that familiar twinge of pride swell in his chest, the one he’d always seemed to reserve for Dave in those few months after his suicide attempt when they would talk and he could tell Dave was finally starting to accept himself a little more bit by bit, before they’d eventually lost touch. 

“That’s amazing,” he finally settles on, not sure what else he can possibly say. He doesn’t want to downplay the fact that he’s happy for Dave for making it out of Ohio. He knows how envious Dave was whenever he would talk about New York and how it was always his plan to get there and make something out of himself, and Dave would in turn sometimes voice the fact that it sounded like the place where dreams came true and he wanted nothing more than that. It almost seems rude to not even acknowledge the fact that Dave decided to go after what he wanted. 

He smiles again, staring a little too long at the man in front of him, but can’t seem to help himself. “You look good,” Kurt says. “Happy.”

Dave shrugs nonchalantly, a bit timid, the corner of his mouth turned up in a shy smile. “I am.” 

“Good. That’s good, I’m glad,” Kurt says, as they fall into a stilted silence as the line finally starts to move.

“What about you?” Dave asks.

Kurt’s only too proud to share what he’s been up to with his life, deciding it's a good time for a humble brag. “I’m good. I… I’m actually going to school for baking.”

Dave, for his part, does seem a bit stunned at that. He’s not the only one. Most people, back when he changed course, had looked at him as though he’d grown another head; it was fascinating, really, and never failed to give him a little thrill that he could make people speechless at such a simple statement. Rachel, of course, had tried to convince him he was making a mistake and throwing away his future. That is until she saw how happy he was only a couple of months later when school started and it was like the joy was brought back to his face that had long since disappeared. 

“What?”

Kurt grins, moving up in the line once again. “Graduating this spring. I’ve decided to make it my life’s goal to become one of the greatest bakers around. Maybe open my own shop some day after getting my foot in the door, make a name for myself… I don’t know, it just sounds like a nice life, I guess. And, you know, still look completely fabulous all the while.” 

“Like that’s hard,” Dave mutters quietly to himself, low enough to where Kurt almost doesn’t hear him. Kurt’s lips quirk up into a smile, flattered by the sentiment. He’s not surprised really, has never been surprised by Dave’s feelings for him, at least not since junior year anyway. That Valentine’s Day three years ago is still seared in his mind, as is the hopeful smile on Dave’s face when taking off that gorilla mask, looking far more endearing and _human_ than Kurt can remember him ever being before. 

When he finally makes it to the counter, Dave offering to pay for his coffee even though he’d paid for his own only minutes before, he swears he can almost feel a shift in the universe, like things are about to change dramatically. And despite the strange, tentative friendship they’d forged in those few months after that February and the fact that they’d simply lost touch, he’s damn near grateful for the change.

—

 _2016_ — _in four years_

His phone ringing breaks him out of his reverie, still sketching furiously even as he reaches over to grab it, only stopping as he sees the name on the screen and his face breaks out into a slow smile. 

“Well hey there, stranger.”

 _“Hey. What are you up to?”_ Dave asks, and Kurt can hear the low laugh in his voice that he’s become so accustomed to over the past year. 

Kurt puts down the pencil, leaning back in his chair and spinning around so as not to be so distracted. “Working on the design for my bakery. It’s the first day I’ve had off in almost two weeks so I thought I would make the most of it and get some dreaming done while I’m at it.”

_“How’s it going? Getting any further with it?”_

Kurt groans. “Only a bit. Right now I’m trying to decide between making it bright so that it looks inviting, or if I want to go with something that’s a little more me and have greys and neutrals as opposed to white everywhere.”

 _“What about both?”_ Dave suggests. _“You could have like white walls and then neutrals for the accent or whatever it’s called. I don’t know, I was never that into, like, interior design or whatever, but I’ve watched enough HGTV with you to at least know a little of what I’m talking about.”_

Kurt gives him a small laugh at that. Yes, he’s certainly made Dave sit through far too many interior design shows in the past year than what is probably considered healthy for someone with little to no interest in the matter, but he thinks maybe now all those hours of watching have finally paid off. 

_“And then like a little more dim lighting?”_ Dave goes on. _“So it’s not so damn bright but still homey and inviting so people still want to be there.”_

“God, you’re a genius, _thank_ you.” 

He writes that down quickly so as not to forget it and turns his attention back to the voice at hand. 

_“So,”_ Dave starts, _“what are you doing tomorrow night? Any plans?”_

“Well tomorrow is Valentine’s Day after all so it’s all hands on deck. Liza needs me there in the morning to help with the cupcakes and what is sure to be more sales than usual considering the holiday. But I should be free after four, why?”

_“What, no date?”_

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Nope. Alas, I am single for yet another Valentine's Day. Don’t remind me, it’s hard enough knowing Taylor broke up with me only a week ago. I almost wonder if he did it on purpose just so that he wouldn’t have to get me a gift or take me to some lavish, expensive restaurant or if it really was my ‘irritating personality’ that always seemed to grate on his nerves.”

_“Yeah, well, Taylor was a fucking idiot. He didn’t understand any pop culture references you made and was only interested in stupid golf and country clubs and how much of an inheritance he was getting when he turned twenty five. And you’re not irritating, it’s not your fault if he couldn’t see how amazing you are, okay? Just because you’re passionate about something doesn’t make you irritating and he’s crazy if he thinks it does.”_

Kurt knows he’s right, that he shouldn’t be with someone who fails to see the good parts of him, but that doesn’t mean that the comments don’t sting, especially coming from someone he’d spent a good five months with. “Thank you, David.”

_“So. You wanna maybe hang out tomorrow, then?”_

“Really? I’d love that, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. The night he broke up with me and you came over notwithstanding. You’ve been so busy with graduating soon, though, it feels like I hardly get to see you.”

 _“I know,”_ Dave says, sounding remorseful. _“But I’m finally done with that big project for class so I have a little more free time now. What d’you say?”_

Kurt turns back to his desk, his eye catching a photo of him with Dave that was taken last summer when they were all home and had gotten together for some house party. He’s still pleasantly surprised when he thinks of how Quinn and Rachel and Finn had all seemed to put the past behind them, accepting the fact that Kurt was now friends with Dave with only a bit of hesitation on their end. Rachel had gotten a little more used to it first because he would come over to the loft sometimes and she’d sort of had to. Still, he’s glad that there isn’t nearly as much tension between them as there used to be, and that they, as well as a few other old Glee members, can all hang out together and be friendly with one another. It helps to remind him that they’ve all grown up a little, of which he is more than grateful. 

When he first saw that photo of him and Dave, he was a little taken aback by the sight of it. It’s one taken by Quinn, of the two of them just sitting on the floor together and looking so carefree and happy, laughing about something that Kurt can’t really remember anymore. He doesn’t exactly recall what they were talking about then, remembers only the feeling of being there with Dave like that in that moment, free and tipsy and content just to be there with him. 

He doesn’t know how he felt about Dave back then, when they were still becoming friends, but he knows for certain how he feels about him now. Has felt about him for a while now, really. 

“Come over around seven? I’ll make dinner, and even throw in some cheesecake, too.”

_“You even have to ask? You know I can’t resist a good cheesecake. Especially yours.”_

—

 _2017_ — _in five years_

Kurt watches from the bed as Dave moves quickly around the room, eyes following his movements sleepily. “Can’t you come back to bed?” he asks with a groan as he pulls the comforter further over his bare shoulders. “It’s too cold in here and you’re nice and warm. Like a big, cuddly bear.”

“You really need to stop calling me Yogi in public, by the way,” Dave says, sounding only mildly irritated, judging by the teasing smile on his face as he tugs on his coat. Kurt grins. “Especially in front of the guys from my law classes, they’ve started calling you Boo Boo.”

“Whatever, I’ve been called far worse things than that,” Kurt shrugs. “You sure I can’t convince you to stay? I’ll make it with your while,” he says coyly.

Dave shakes his head and leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “Later, I promise. My last class ends at three so I’ll be home after that.”

“Fine,” Kurt grumbles, sighing dramatically even as he smiles and leans up to kiss him again, wanting more. He barely manages a minute of kisses, his lips moving slowly against Dave’s and earning a moan from him as he bites lightly on Dave’s lip, before Dave is groaning as he shoves himself away from the bed reluctantly so as not to get sucked back into Kurt’s hold.

“If you’re really that cold then grab a sweatshirt, there’s some in the dresser. They smell like me, too, I know how much you like that.” Dave grins, pulling back entirely to look at the pout on Kurt’s face. 

“Not my fault if you smell good,” Kurt mumbles, smirking. 

Dave turns, walking toward the door and yelling behind him on the way out. “Sweatshirt, drawer!”

Kurt hears the apartment door click shut and the tell tale sounds of Dave locking it on his way out, and reluctantly drags himself out of the warmth of the bed and into the freezing cold of the apartment, throwing the duvet over his shoulders. He goes over and quickly adjusts the temperature on the thermostat, turning it up to make it more comfortable until he has to leave to go to work later, letting out an involuntary shiver as he turns to go to the dresser.

He didn’t used to be the type of person to sleep in the nude or without a shirt on, at least not until he and Dave started dating last year. Kurt learned quickly that Dave’s body was built like a furnace, radiating heat, and it took him all of a week of sleeping with Dave to start sleeping without a top on, if anything at all. Sometimes they fell asleep right after sex, which was the greatest exception since Kurt liked to at least have bottoms on in case there was ever a fire and he had to leave immediately. He was so not about to have some firefighter, no matter how attractive they may be, come rescue him in all his naked glory. 

Kurt opens the second drawer of the dresser, a gorgeous piece of mahogany that he’d insisted on buying when they moved in together last autumn, despite the price, adorned with gold drawer pulls. It was big enough that they could easily fit most of Dave’s clothes as well as his own, though the majority of his were hanging in the closet. 

The second drawer is his favorite. Full of their most comfortable clothes, mostly Dave’s sweatshirts and lounge pants, with a few of his own thrown in there for good measure. 

He sifts through the sweatshirts, face pinched in concentration as he attempts to find the one he’s looking for, his favorite of Dave’s from Columbia Law in dark grey with white stitching for the letters. Dave bought it at the beginning of the school year when he started there to study law, only for Kurt to wear it more than Dave himself did thus far. It’s far too big on him, but comfortable and warm and smells like Dave and makes him feel safe and loved. 

“Come on, you bastard, I know you’re in here—” he mutters, only to frown as it’s nowhere to be seen. 

Kurt glances around the room, eyes falling on the laundry hamper, which in the end is where he eventually finds it, yelling out triumphantly at the sight of it before quickly pulling it over his head and down his chest. Smiling, eyes closing at the distinct smell of Dave as he tugs the collar up, Kurt opens them again only to have the open dresser drawer catch his eye. 

He walks back over with a groan, pulling each piece of clothing out and refolding it from where he’d made a mess of practically the entire contents of the drawer. 

He’s about halfway through, pulling yet another sweatshirt out of the drawer to fold it, when he hears the distinct sound of something falling onto the drawer’s bottom. 

“What—” Kurt starts, cutting himself off quickly as his eyes focus on the small velvet sapphire box that’s now laying face down between the neatly folded shirts and ones yet to be fixed. “Oh my _god._ ”

Hand shaking, he grasps it in his fingers, pulling it out of the drawer and walking over to the bed to sit on the edge. 

He can already guess at what’s inside, is almost positive of its contents and what he’ll find if he opens it. And while he knows he shouldn’t look, knows how much of an invasion of privacy it is, the desperation to look is almost overwhelming. 

His throat is dry, heart beating hard in his chest as he takes a deep, uneven breath. 

Slowly he opens the box, a breathless smile spreading across his face at the sight of two gorgeous gold rings, one slightly larger than the other, nestled amongst the plush, off white cushion inside. He feels his heart do a little flip as he runs a finger over the gold metal, and bites his lip softly. God, it feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest or fall into his stomach, like he’s going to be sick, but in a good way. A _very_ good way. 

He’s thought about marrying Dave before, what it would be like to spend the rest of his life with him. Sure, they may have only been dating for just over a year, but it feels like everything’s been leading up to this, from running into him again in New York to becoming friends, and dating and moving in together. 

The thought’s run through his mind before, sudden and surprising, in moments when he never would have expected. 

It’s in the days when he wakes up next to him with the warm glow of the early morning sun shining in through the bedroom windows and how peaceful Dave looks sleeping there, perfectly content in the few minutes before his alarm goes off, and realizing that he wants to spend all of his mornings like this. It’s when they moved in together at the end of last September, their relationship still new but both of them knowing that they were ready to be together full time without having to spend subway rides going to see each other, surrounded by people overly loud or who don’t know proper hygiene. It’s when they went home for Christmas and he could see how hard Dave was trying to not only make amends with his dad and atone for his past but also prove to him that he loves Kurt more than anything and would never do anything to hurt him. 

It’s the little things, the ones that make Kurt believe that, more than anything else, he wants a future with Dave. He wants a life with him, the good and the bad times and the stupid little fights that lead to makeup sex on the couch and exchanging vows with their family and friends by their side and maybe even having kids someday. 

He’s always hoped that maybe Dave wanted that as well. 

Seeing the matching bands in the ring box there, running the tip of his thumb over the underside of his ring finger, he knows. He knows that this is real. That this is right. 

And he can’t ask for anything more than this, right here, a future with Dave. 

—

 _2018_ — _in six years_

Kurt turns the lock on the apartment door and sets his bag down on the kitchen counter near the entryway, slipping off his shoes in the foyer as he walks further into their home. 

“David? Are you home?”

Dave’s voice is muffled as he answers, and Kurt has to strain a bit to hear him, tilting his head curiously as he hangs up his coat on the rack by the door. 

“One sec, I’m getting changed!” Dave yells back and Kurt nods to himself as he flips idly through the mail on the countertop. “Hey.”

Kurt glances up, dropping the mail immediately as Dave pads into the kitchen, clad in a plain V-neck tee and loose sweatpants. Kurt grins and walks over the short distance to greet his husband, a deep, thorough kiss with his hands clasped together at the back of Dave’s neck as their lips move together fervently. He hears Dave let out a low moan and, taking that as a cue, lets Dave push him back against the kitchen counter beside the oven. 

In the four months that they’ve been married, sex against the countertops — or living room couch, or kitchen table, or the time against the dresser — after Kurt gets home has been almost ridiculously often. It’s… a lot, if he’s being honest. But he can’t really bring himself to care all that much. He loves Dave with every fiber of his being and they’re still in the honeymoon stage of their marriage where all they want to do is jump each other’s bones. And he is definitely not complaining. Not in the least. 

Dave loves the way that, even after washing up multiple times throughout the day, Kurt still somehow manages to taste like sugar and chocolate, and proves as much by licking along his collarbone and pressing lingering kisses to his hands. Dave, on the other hand, usually goes to the gym after his last class of the day so when Kurt comes home after closing the place up for the night, it’s to the sweaty, salty taste of Dave on his tongue that he’s become so accustomed to over the years. It’s intoxicating, really; addicting in a way that he’s never known before. 

Dave stretches him quickly with the spare bottle of lube stashed in a kitchen drawer, making quick work to prep him without drawing it out or hurting him. Truth be told, Kurt sort of loves the burn, loves the slight urgency that comes with such desperation in the heat of the moment when all he can think of is them being joined together and the arousal that such a thought brings. 

Kurt sighs happily when Dave finally pushes inside, heart beating a little harder in his chest as his back collides with and scrapes slightly against the edge of the counter. “Come on, baby, fuck me,” he breathes, a breathless smile coming over him as his head fallsback onto his shoulder and Dave pulls out slowly only to thrust in deeper with a grunt that makes him see stars behind his eyes. “Fuck, _yes_.”

It’s only the sounds of skin slapping against skin for a moment, Kurt’s thighs tightening around Dave’s waist from where he’s been hoisted up at the start of this, before Dave’s grunting out a string of words that take far too long to really register in Kurt’s mind as an actual question. 

“How was your day?” Dave asks, voice gruff. 

Kurt moans lowly as Dave hits his prostate dead on, drawing a strangled scream from his throat. “G-good,” he stutters out, mouth dry from how it’s been hanging open for what feels like an eternity. “We — we s-sold our first wedding cake today, _ungh, David_.”

“That’s awesome,” Dave says with a quick smile, grin disappearing as Kurt leans over to kiss him hard and deep, letting out tiny whimpers when Dave thumbs over the head of his cock and he has to pull away with a gasp. 

“ _Fuck._ ”

Dave strokes down the head and to the base, his thick fingers curling around him and jerking him off feverishly. 

“I ordered Thai for dinner,” Dave mutters, sounding about as out of breath as Kurt feels. “From that place down the street you like so much.”

“Thank god, I’m starving, _ahh_ —” Kurt breaks off with a gasp as he comes over Dave’s hand and each of their stomachs, some catching in Dave’s chest hair. “David. _David, David, Davi—_ ” Kurt chants, saying his name like a prayer as he comes down, a grunt falling from his lips at the feeling of Dave coming inside him and filling him, his hips eventually, gradually slowing to a stop before Kurt’s pulling him into another kiss, a simple press of their lips together as they try to regain their composure as Kurt breathes harshly, Dave not faring much better. “Love you,” he murmurs, swallowing hard and biting at his lip in an attempt to stop the moan that comes with the feel of Dave’s lips moving up to press a kiss at his temple. 

“I love you too, baby,” Dave says back with a smile when Kurt can finally bring himself to look at him again, and grins wolfishly at him before kissing him chastely. “Now turn around and bend over so I can lick you clean.”

Kurt whimpers and turns to bend over the counter, breath hitching as Dave spreads his ass cheeks apart and his hot, wet tongue is licking across his insides and _jesus_. 

He doesn’t know what he’s ever done to deserve such a wonderful, devoted, loving husband but whatever it is, it must’ve been good.

—

 _2019_ — _in seven years_

“What’s all this?”

Kurt gives him a shaky smile as he sees Dave standing and waiting for him beside the kitchen table, the lights dimmed and a bouquet of roses on the middle of the table next to a large candle. He can hear Frank Sinatra coming from the stereo as Dave gives him a large, proud smile and suddenly Kurt’s brought back to that night in senior year, feeling like he’s eighteen again. Sure, it’s been seven years now, but it certainly doesn’t feel like that long. Things are so different now, so many things have happened, but he still feels young. He likes to believe that he and Dave will keep each other young; he’s sure that even when he’s eighty he’ll still feel that way. 

“It’s Valentine’s Day. Almost three years to the day since we got together, three years since you kissed me and made me the happiest guy on the planet. And I just really wanted to do something special for you, since you’ve been working so hard lately and—”

Kurt crosses the room quickly, grabbing the back of Dave’s head and pulling him into a kiss. “I love it,” he says as they pull away. “Thank you.”

Dave gives him a bashful smile and shrugs. “It’s not much, but…” he starts, only to be cut off by Kurt pressing another insistent kiss to his lips. “I, uh. I made you dinner, too.”

“You did?”

Kurt looks over to the stove, seeing the pan of homemade fettuccine alfredo and eyes widening in delight. Dave knows how much he loves not only that particular dish but when he cooks in general, too. Kurt may be the one who loves to bake, but Dave’s the one who cooks dinners most nights and loves trying out new recipes. 

Dave hands him a glass of wine, the perfect thing for Kurt to take the edge off from the day, and smiles softly at him. 

“I have something else for you, too.”

“I thought we said no presents this year. I’m still building my business and you’re in your last year of law school and with Quinn and the baby coming I just—”

“This didn’t cost anything, okay, now take a seat.”

Reluctantly Kurt sits in one of the kitchen chairs as Dave does the same in the one next to him, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. Kurt’s eyes follow Dave’s unoccupied hand to where it’s grabbing at the white envelope on the table and sliding it towards him. Kurt takes in a shaky breath, closing his eyes tightly. 

“Why do you have that? We agreed we weren’t going to look at that.” Kurt gives him a look, one eyebrow raised in disapproval. “Besides, I thought I threw that away.”

“Yeah, well, I fished it out of the garbage,” Dave says and Kurt sighs. “I know you said you didn’t want to know. But the way you just got rid of it like that without really even discussing it with me, I feel like you’re holding out on me, like you’re not telling me something here. And it’s been like a week since Quinn gave it to us so if you could maybe fill me in on what’s going on with you that’d be great.”

Kurt’s silent, eyes flickering from their joined hands to the little white envelope and back again, like he’s scared of its contents. If he’s being honest with himself, he sort of is. It all happened so fast and he didn’t think when they asked Quinn to be their surrogate that she’d actually get pregnant on the first try. It’s a lot to process. And they only have five more months to get everything ready and the first four have gone by so fast, it’s just— 

“I’m sort of terrified,” he mutters, hating the way the tears start to prickle behind his eyes. It doesn’t help seeing the sad confusion on Dave’s face when Kurt can finally look at him again, either. “Look, I am so, so happy that we’re doing this, don’t get me wrong, it’s just… it’s all happening really fast. It’s sort of overwhelming. And it just feels like if we open that stupid little card, if we see what it is, it’ll just… I don’t know. Make it more real, or something, I guess? And what if I’m a bad parent? What if our kid hates me, what if I yell too much or what if they get made fun of for having two dads, I just—”

“I think about that stuff, too, you know,” Dave says, quiet. “I worry about it, about all that stuff. But then I just think about how that’s all a bunch of shit, because we’re gonna be _awesome_ dads. And they’re going to have two dads who love them so damn much. And you know what else?”

Kurt sighs, averting his gaze. “What?”

“There is no possible way that that kid could ever hate you.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do. And you know how? Because that kid’s gonna have half your DNA. And anyone as caring and amazing as you are could never really hate anyone. Especially you.”

Kurt stares at him for a moment, a tiny smile coming over him even as he wipes away a stray tear that’s managed to escape. He takes a deep breath, giving him a more genuine smile this time, though still nervous. “I love you,” he says quietly, squeezing Dave’s hand and leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to his lips. “Thank you. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re going to be an amazing dad, too.”

“I sure hope so.”

“I know so,” Kurt corrects, as Dave kisses him again. “I have a gift for you, too, actually.”

“What? But you said—”

“I know what I said. It’s nothing monumental or whatever, but I saw it and I thought you’d like it,” Kurt says with a shrug, and stands to go to his hiding spot to retrieve the small box before returning to the kitchen to sit sideways on Dave’s lap as Dave’s arm goes to snake around his waist. 

“What’s this?”

“Just open it,” Kurt grumbles as Dave unwraps the gift, opening the black box to reveal a gold and silver watch, the two metals intertwining. 

“I thought you could use an upgrade to the one you’ve been wearing, one that will shine nicely under your suits in the courtroom,” Kurt says before Dave can get a word in.

Dave presses a grateful kiss to his lips, feeling Kurt relax more as the moments go on. 

“Thank you. I love it.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

They stay there in silence for another moment, before finally Kurt reaches over to grab the white envelope, turning it over idly in his hands. 

“We don’t need to open it if you don’t want to,” Dave says quietly, breaking Kurt out of his revery.

“I know,” Kurt replies, tones just as hushed. “But I think — I think we need to. I think _I_ need to, for that matter. As it is, you’ve been pretty antsy all week and it’s been driving me crazy.”

He’s tearing open the envelope before he can talk himself out of it, pulling out the small white card and turning to look at Dave with a deep breath. “Okay. Ready?”

“Ready.” 

Dave flips open the card with him, a picture of the sonogram slipped inside that stops his breath at the mere sight of it. No matter how many times they’ve gone to Quinn’s appointments with her, it still never ceases to amaze either of them that she really is pregnant, they really are about to become parents in only a few short months. 

When Dave finally pulls the photo away to reveal the words underneath, he can feel Kurt tense ever so slightly before letting out a deep, shuddering breath, a small bout of slightly hysterical laughter escaping him. 

“David,” he breathes, but Dave is too busy staring at the words on the card, head slightly dizzy with a whole myriad of emotions swirling through him, focusing on the one little word there. 

A boy. They’re having a son.

—

 _2020_ — _in eight years_

Kurt wakes to the sound of crying blaring through the baby monitor on the nightstand, grumbling at having been woken up yet again, and stirs in Dave’s arms wrapped tight around him from behind. 

It’s been going on for a week, the reverse cycling where Alex wakes up suddenly in the middle of the night, usually somewhere around two in the morning and proceeds to stay awake for far too long to be considered normal. For as much as he loves their son, he’s seriously starting to mess with his sleeping schedule. And at seven months, if this doesn’t stop soon, he’s afraid it will stay like this forever and then nobody will be able to get some peace around here. 

“I’ll get him,” Dave grumbles in his ear and Kurt pats gratefully at his cheek in thanks with murmurs of praise as Dave pulls off the comforter and slips out of the bed. 

“You’re amazing,” Kurt finally manages to string together in a semi coherent sentence, a sigh escaping him as he adjusts his sleeping position, barely even registering Dave leaving the room. 

He loves being a father more than he could have ever imagined, of course he does, even despite how overly nervous he’d been in the months leading up to Alex’s birth in late July of last summer. What he doesn’t love, however, is how insanely exhausted he’s been lately. He wakes up early in the morning when Alex gets up, is with him for a few short hours before bringing him to daycare so that he can go to work as Dave does the same, working until the late afternoon when one of the other bakers comes in to relieve him as they’re open later hours now with business picking up rapidly in the past year, before going to pick up Alex from daycare and going home to make dinner, clean a bit until Dave gets home, and just spend time together until bedtime. And with how Dave’s work day fluctuates on the daily, some days are far more exhausting than others. Today is one of the hard days, with Dave on a big case at work and not being able to make it home until later than he would like. He’d be a little upset if it wasn’t for the fact that Dave at the very least calls to say if he’s going to be late, not to mention the massive look of guilt on his face whenever he comes home later than usual. Really, Kurt can’t blame him. He knows firsthand how hard it is in the first year or two, how much he’d worked his ass off — is still working his ass off — in the first couple years of opening his bakery. Dave is doing the same thing, only a few years later. 

Kurt frowns at the monitor as the crying doesn’t cease even as he knows Dave must be already in the room, and rubs a hand over his face as he pulls the covers off and reluctantly drags himself out of the bed, wrapping a throw blanket from the end of the bed over his shoulders to block out the chilly February air. Maybe if he goes in to help Dave then they can tag team it and get him back to sleep together. 

By the time he makes it halfway down the hall, the crying has started to wane, stopping almost entirely as he makes it to the room, dwindling to tiny whimpers of protest as Dave shushes him. Kurt leans against the doorway, smiling to himself at the sight of Dave standing there in the middle of the nursery decked out in creams and greys, their son and a stuffed elephant tucked into Dave’s bare chest. Kurt can hear Alex making small, content noises as Dave rocks him back and forth, singing softly to him a song he and Dave danced to at their wedding. Each time he’s heard it since then it never fails to bring a smile to his face. 

Dave stops moving as he catches sight of Kurt standing in the doorway, locking eyes with him as Kurt rushes to wipe away the tears that had started to pool there with a small smile. As much as he would like to blame the rush of emotions on being overly exhausted, he knows he can’t. It would be so easy to, to brush it off on how tired he’s been lately, but he knows that it’s far from the truth. It's the sight of Dave’s skin glowing under the moonlight shining in through the window. It’s seeing his husband standing there bare chested because he’s read that skin to skin contact is good for bonding with the baby. It’s the overwhelming love and adoration he has for the very sight of the two of them together, every time he sees Dave playing with Alex on the living room floor or reading him bedtime stories or talking to him about the game playing on the TV and the exclamations falling from Dave’s lips while Alex squeals with delight and babbles nonsensically from his spot on Dave’s lap. It’s knowing that despite the rocky start he and Dave had, all of the fights and tears and heartache, they’ve still ended up _here_ , a family built out of love from the ground up. 

Quietly he strides over to Dave and Alex with quick, sure steps, pulling Dave into a lingering kiss and pulling back with a smile to gently run a finger over Alex’s head, watching as he blinks slowly and falls back asleep. 

He smiles down at him again, head resting against Dave’s shoulder and looking far more content than Kurt’s seen him during one of these midnight wake ups in well over a week, and glances back up to see Dave looking at him in concern. 

“You okay?” Dave whispers, not wanting to wake Alex again, and Kurt nods. 

“Yeah,” he replies with a bright smile, just as quietly. “Yeah I’m fine, it’s just… I love you.”

The look of concern falls from Dave’s face, a shy smile replacing it. “Yeah?”

Kurt nods again, smile brighter than before. “You’re amazing, by the way. An amazing father. Have I told you that lately?”

“Baby, you tell me every day,” Dave says, a low rumbling laugh escaping him and nearly threatening to wake up the baby sleeping on his chest yet again. “You’re an incredible dad, too. You know that, right?”

Kurt leans over and kisses him once more, gently but thoroughly this time, more leisurely than before. “But of course,” he says with a tiny, teasing grin. “Did you ever doubt me?”

Dave smiles back, shaking his head once. “Not for a minute.”

_—_

_2021_ — _in nine years_

Kurt turns his key in the lock, turning the handle with it and pushing, only to be stopped mere inches in. When he glances up, he can see the chain latched, effectively stopping him from entering the apartment. _What the hell?_ That’s strange, Dave never double locks the door when he’s waiting for Kurt to come home from work. 

“David?” he tries, sure his voice must be slightly muffled even as he attempts to angle himself to shout better into the apartment. “David, why is the chain on?”

He can hear footsteps hurrying over, overshadowed slightly by the sounds of music playing from somewhere inside. From where he’s standing he can’t quite make out which song it is exactly but at the very least it sounds like Michael Buble. Unsurprising, really, considering how obsessed Dave’s become with him over the years. “I, uh—” Dave starts, sounding flustered and slamming the door closed and seeming to ignore Kurt’s huff of indignance to slide the chain back over to unlock it. When Dave opens the door, just enough to where he can lean against the doorframe and the side of the door flush with his opposite hip, it’s to the sight of a thoroughly confused Kurt, brows pulled together and a frown on his face. 

“You’re home early,” Dave says, going for what Kurt assumes must be nonchalance but comes across as anything but.

“Yeah, Katie took over prepping everything for the morning…” Kurt says, trailing off slightly as he attempts to look further into the apartment, craning his neck. “So I went home early, I— okay, you’re being weird, is everything okay?”

Dave shrugs, giving a nervous laugh. “Why wouldn’t it be okay, of course everything’s okay.”

“You tell me,” Kurt says. “You’re the one who’s acting weird here.”

Dave swallows as Kurt continues to look at him disbelieving. “Fine, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to get mad, okay?”

Kurt frowns. 

The door creaks open slowly as Dave relinquishes his hold on it, scratching the back of his neck as he does so. “I, uh. I was gonna clean it all up before you got home but then you came back early and…” Dave sighs while Kurt walks slowly into the apartment, not entirely sure what he should be expecting to find. 

The living room looks fine, if a bit messy with Alex’s toys scattered on the floor, just as they had been when he’d left for work that morning which is to be expected. They’d been too exhausted from the day to clean them up last night and Kurt had left in a hurry this morning to get to the shop on time. 

When he looks to his right, however, there at the dining room table and covered seemingly head to toe in glitter, is their son. The bright smile on Alex’s face is evident, as is the sparkling glitter shining off of his face is haphazard specks among his freckled cheeks, trailing down his shirt that seems to have ridden up from the way he’s bouncing in his seat and pounding his tiny fists on the table. His hands seem to have taken the brunt of the attack, glitter covering them almost entirely. 

Kurt turns to look back to Dave standing behind him, knowing his mouth is hanging open in surprise, a croak the only sound coming from his mouth when he tries to speak. 

“Sorry,” Dave mumbles, hunching in on himself slightly as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants Kurt hadn’t noticed he was wearing until now. “I wanted to surprise you so I took Alex to the store earlier and got glitter and glue and paper so we could make you a card from him for Valentine’s Day and… and I don’t know, it sorta got out of hand and I haven’t had a chance to clean up yet so now he’s a mess and there’s glitter all over the table and… yeah. I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up, I swear.”

Kurt stares at him for another moment, taking in the sheepish look on his husband’s face and the remnants of glitter on his arms and what he can only assume must be on his hands as well, before looking back over at their son. Which is when it starts. The mere sight of him, the sheer ridiculousness of it all and the fact that glitter is now sprinkled all throughout their dining room and the fact that he’s sure he’ll still be finding tiny specks of it even after he and Dave clean it all up… a bubble of laughter starts to swell in his chest, making its way up his throat and past his lips stretched into a smile, to the point where he’s laughing uncontrollably, tears pinpricking his eyes in mirth. 

“Babe?” Dave says cautiously, confusion evident in his voice. Kurt turns back to him, sobering slightly at the sight of Dave’s anxious face, tiny laughs still escaping. 

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Kurt says, smiling as he pulls Dave close, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and dragging him into a slow kiss.

Dave’s finally starts to relax, the tension releasing from his shoulders the longer they stand there, flush together. “You—you aren’t mad?”

Kurt pulls back to look at him and shakes his head, still smiling at the mere thought of it all. “No, of course not,” he says quietly. “I mean, it’s going to take forever to clean it all up and we’ll probably still be finding glitter a year from now but — but this is… simultaneously one of the most romantic and adorable things I think you’ve ever done for me.”

“Really?”

“Right up there with that first Valentine’s Day, yes,” Kurt says, eyes fond. “Really.”

Dave gives him a small, crooked smile and presses a kiss to his lips once more before Alex is letting out a tiny happy shriek. Dave reaches behind him and squeezes Kurt’s hand still thrown around his shoulders, reluctantly pulling out of his embrace to hurry over to the table to check on Alex, Kurt following behind, stopping to grab the pack of baby wipes from the kitchen counter before making his way to the table. He leans down, kissing Alex on the forehead and taking a seat in the chair next to him while Alex babbles nonsensically as Kurt scrubs at his hands, humming all the while. 

“Wait, what was so romantic about that first Valentine’s Day?” Dave asks after a minute. 

“What?”

“That first year,” Dave says as he wipes at Alex’s cheeks to clean them. “The one where we were watching movies and I fell asleep on your couch, before you kissed me at the door when I was leaving the next morning and we finally got together. What’s so romantic about that? I mean, we didn’t even get around to eating the cheesecake and you sent me home with like half of it.” 

Kurt stops, looking back up and waiting until Dave does the same to catch his gaze with a small smile. “Not that one, David, the _first one_. The one where you spent an entire week showering me in gifts and showed up to Breadstix in that ridiculous gorilla suit. That one. The one that made me see the real you and just how amazing and incredible and thoughtful you really are.” He watches as realization and what he’s come to recognize over the years as embarrassment dawns on Dave’s face, and reaches over to grab his hand, lacing their fingers together. “The first one that really counts.”

Dave smiles, a quick upturn of the corner of his lips, and leans down to press a kiss to Kurt’s hand, lingering there for a moment, eyes closed in reverence. Kurt unclasps their hands and moves to hold Dave’s jaw in his palm, running his thumb slowly over his cheek as he does so. 

“I love you,” Dave breathes and Kurt grins. 

“I love you too,” Kurt says, tilting Dave’s chin up slightly and kissing him slowly, leisurely, before whispering against his lips. “Don’t think that means you’re getting out of cleaning this up, though.”

—

 _2022_ — _in ten years_

“Alright, that’s the last of it.”

Dave’s voice comes almost like an echo to his ears, sounding far away and distant no matter how he tries to focus on it. 

The past few months have been a blur, a chaotic flurry of house hunting and paperwork and packing up their things as they readied themselves for the next chapter in their lives. It’s strange to think that this place will never be _theirs_ anymore after this. Sure, it was Dave’s apartment first, not too far from Columbia when he was there for law school, but over time it had become Kurt’s home as well. He can still remember long nights spent curled up together on the sofa, the ones that turned into mornings waking up in Dave’s arms with the sun shining in through the open window in the summer when it was too hot to keep it closed but not hot enough to turn on the air conditioner. The memory of the day he’d moved in with Dave, laughing and cooking a meal that had to be scrapped in favor of take out when they’d gotten too distracted by christening the place and celebrating with sex against the kitchen counter, breathless and new and exciting, still reeling from the pure bliss of just being together. Finding out that Dave had bought rings for them, was planning for a future with him, was wanting to spend the rest of their lives wrapped up in each other’s arms and how earth shatteringly _right_ it had all felt. 

And now, instead of the place they had made a home out of for six years, all there is is an empty apartment. 

“Hey,” Dave says, effectively breaking him out of his train of thought as he slips a hand through Kurt’s, tangling their fingers together. “You okay?”

Kurt gives him a small smile, hoping it looks convincing enough and not showing just how freaked out he is by all of this. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, just… I don’t know. Reminiscing, I guess. Remembering.”

“Remembering what?” Dave asks, tone gentle as ever as he squeezes Kurt’s hand. 

Kurt looks at him a little longer, taking in the man before him with a lingering sigh as he shrugs. “I don’t know. Everything?” he says, a wry laugh escaping him. “It’s just… this is where I first told you I loved you. Where we were when you found out you got into law school. It’s where Alex took his first steps and we decided we wanted another kid so he wouldn’t grow up an only child like we were.”

“Kurt—”

“I know it’s probably stupid to get so attached to an apartment. I mean, it’s just an apartment. But beyond the exposed brick and stupid stove that burned more meals than I can count it was also a home. Where we built our lives together and made memories.” He holds Dave’s hand a little tighter, reassuringly. “And I know that where we’re going is going to be just as amazing as this little rinky dink apartment, that our _house_ is going to be amazing and we’re going to make it into a home. And our kids can grow up and make friends with the kids down the street and we can get a cat and have, I don’t know, stupid little barbeques with the neighbors in the summer because that seems like a thing normal people always do when they’re talking about the perfect white picket fence life or whatever. That’s what I want, it’s what we decided, I know that. I guess I’m just… getting overly sentimental in my old age, I suppose.”

“You’re not old, babe. And you’ve always been sentimental, just about weird things.” At Kurt’s questioning look, Dave smiles. “You kept all that stuff I gave you for Valentine’s Day senior year and not only that but you took it to New York with you, too. When we weren’t even together and you still had a boyfriend and you probably thought we’d never see each other again. And you still kept that stupid little monkey and all those cards. How is that not sentimental?”

“Do not _diss_ Marco the Monkey, David. He is adorable and I love him, and so does your child.”

“Marco!” Alex exclaims from where he’s playing with a toy car on the entryway floor beside Dave’s legs. He looks up, blinking wide blue eyes up at Kurt. “Where Marco, Daddy?”

Kurt bends down, smiling at him, pulling the strap of his still too large overalls that’s fallen down yet again back up and adjusts the fit of them with a few pulls before moving to the other side. “He’s in the truck, baby. You’ll get to see him in a few minutes, okay, just after Daddy and Papa are done here.”

“Kay,” says Alex, smiling a big, toothy smile at him then Dave before going back to his car. 

“See?” Kurt says, turning back to Dave expectantly, one brow raised in amusement. “He loves that monkey.”

Dave laughs, pulling Kurt into him and wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist while Kurt’s go around his shoulders with a smile. “Yeah, okay. I guess I’m glad you kept it.”

“Oh yeah, and why’s that?”

“Because. You kept all that stuff, it was important enough to you that you brought it with you here. _I_ was important enough in your life that you kept all of those things. I don’t know, maybe somewhere in the back of your mind you thought something might happen someday. Between us. Maybe.”

Kurt ducks his head, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to Dave’s collarbone before slowly glancing back up to catch his gaze. “You were always important to me, David. I just didn’t know how at the time, or in what way. And now look where we are. Married with a kid and a U-Haul parked downstairs as we move to a house in the suburbs because we don’t want to spend forever in a cramped apartment, even if the city view’s amazing.” Kurt lets out a wistful sigh, turning to glance back over his shoulder at the window. “God, I’m gonna miss that view. The way the city looks when the snow’s falling… remind me again why we’re moving?”

“Baby, it was your idea.”

“I know but I think I changed my mind.”

“Too late, we already bought the place,” Dave quips as Kurt turns around fully in his arms to look one last time out the window, Dave’s hands splayed on his stomach. “Besides, the snow’ll look pretty good when it’s falling outside those windows. I think I saw snow in the forecast the next couple days.”

Kurt sighs. “In that case, we should probably get going so we can get things unpacked and the truck returned before it starts.” He takes one last look around the empty apartment, the blank walls that were once adorned with picture frames and memories of their years together, the kitchen where many a meal and lovemaking session were had. Their first home together. “Okay,” he says, pulling out of Dave’s arms and reaching down to scoop Alex and his car off of the floor and into his arms, tucking him into his side. “Ready?”

“Yeah, this is the last box,” Dave says, grabbing it in his arms. “Oh, you got your key, right? We still have to drop ‘em off before we leave.”

Kurt nods and pulls the key from his pocket to eye it carefully, running a thumb over the jagged grooves for a moment before finally glancing back up to catch Dave’s gaze. “Why aren’t you more upset about leaving this place? I mean, this was your home before it was ever mine.”

Dave shrugs, as much as he can anyway while holding the big moving box in his arms. “I don’t know, I guess… maybe it doesn’t really matter to me where I am as long as you’re there with me. As long as I have you then I’m home.”

Kurt blinks, standing there with his mouth suddenly dry. He doesn’t know how Dave does it, how he can still leave him feeling speechless and overcome with love even after all this time but he sure as hell hopes it stays like this forever. “And you call me sentimental,” he mumbles, ducking his head slightly in an effort to hide the small smile that stretches across his lips despite himself. Dave laughs, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of his head before doing the same to Alex.

“Never said I wasn’t,” Dave says, a smile on his face. “And I’m happy right now. I think a little sentimentality is deserved.”

**Author's Note:**

> I should note that this actually isn't where I originally was going to have this fic end up. When I first started writing it, they were going to essentially take on the future/dream sequence from 3.14 On My Way. However, in writing it and getting closer to the end, things changed a bit and I decided to go a slightly alternative route. I hope you like where it ended up.
> 
> Also, I’m still not sure I’m totally in love with this story. Maybe I’ve just been staring at it for too long so my perception is skewed, who knows. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed this little thing.


End file.
